


Collisions

by Lady_of_Winterfell



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Car Accidents, Closeted, Coming Out, Cutting, Depression, First Time, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Masturbation, My First Work in This Fandom, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Survivor Guilt, Underage Drinking, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-02-23 22:36:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2558207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Winterfell/pseuds/Lady_of_Winterfell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a life altering accident, Bran goes into a depression, but luckily meets a certain boy who can pull him out of the darkness… despite him being the one who caused it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on here and also my first time doing anything with Game Of Thrones. The second chapter and so on is better, but I hope you all like this.
> 
> I'm [sterek-unlit](http://hotdameronpoe.tumblr.com) on tumblr.

_Today is the day,_ Bran thought as he sat up eagerly in his bed, checking the date on his phone to make sure it actually _was_ the day. _I finally get my license today!_ He smiled and made his way out of bed excitedly, running into his bathroom to get himself ready. By the time he was out of the bathroom his family was in his bedroom wishing him a loud happy birthday and showering him in presents. Bran didn't care that he was half naked and had only a towel to cover his decency, his family was there and that put a smile on his face. Well— _most_ of his family anyway. His father was out of town at the capital away for work and his older brothers, Jon and Robb, had moved out the minute they'd turned eighteen. So Bran was content with the company of his mother, sisters, and younger brother Rickon. Oh, and the dogs too, of course. 

He thought the gifts were pretty sick too. His mother had given him a book about the history of kings and knights and all the wars that had taken place back in the old world. Bran was a closet nerd about stuff like that and only his family really knew about it, so he nearly squealed like a girl when it was handed to him. His oldest sister, Sansa, had given him the newest _Lord Of The Rings_ game, _Shadow of Mordor,_ to which he planned to play all night. His brother Rickon, being twelve, had only gotten him a new deck for _Magic: The Gathering,_ but that was probably more for his benefit than Bran's since Bran didn't play card games often. The best gift, though, had come from his sister, Arya. She'd gotten him a sword— an _actual_ sword. It was beautiful and incredibly sharp (he learned that from accidentally running his finger along the edge and feeling the painful bite from the blade). It reminded him of the sword Jon had gotten Arya before he moved out when she was thirteen. 

"You ought to put some clothes on before you cut yourself somewhere else!" She warned, her voice tinged with laughter. Bran sheathed the sword and put his finger in his mouth, licking away the blood. "You really shouldn't have gotten him that, Arya, it was bad enough when that boy gave you one." Their mother said, a small frown gracing her features. "That _boy_ is our _brother,_ mom! You should sto—"  
"Hey, can we not right now? Bran doesn't need to hear you two arguing on his birthday." Sansa interrupted. Bran gave her a small smile and went over to his closet, trying to decide what to wear. "Arya, are you still coming with me to get my license?" He asked his sister. "Yeah, if you hurry up and get dressed." She answered, seeming uninterested. Bran smiled before telling them all politely to get out so he could get dressed. 

\---

"I can't believe this! This is so cool!" Bran exclaimed as he held his license in his hands. It was _his_ license, the actual finished product. The little laminated piece of plastic that granted him so much more freedom than he'd had yesterday. This was by far the best day of Bran's short life. "Yeah, you'll get over that real fast when you get pulled over and mom takes your license away." Arya teased, making Bran roll his eyes. "I'm not like _you,_ Arya. I won't hit someone's car _the day I get my license."_ He retorted. Arya punched him hard in the shoulder and Bran laughed. "Just because you're taller than me now does _not_ mean I won't kick your ass!" Bran continued to laugh until they reached Arya's car. "Can I drive?" He asked happily. Arya flipped him off, but tossed him the keys anyway. "And you better _not_ crash into someone." She threatened. 

When they got home, Bran was more than surprised to see his brothers on the front porch of their house. He smiled wildly before he parked and sprinted out of the car. "Robb! Jon! What are you two doing here?" He asked excitedly. "You didn't think we'd miss your sixteenth, did you? Rickon told us about all your nerd presents, so we got you something better." Robb said, gesturing across the street. Bran looked in the direction he was pointing and gasped. He looked back at them. "Seriously?" He asked and the two men nodded. Parked across the street was a 2010 Acura TSX, Jon and Robb's first car. 

"Catelyn told Robb about how excited you were about your license, figured you'd need something of your own to drive." Jon explained. Bran was literally bouncing at this point. "Oh, thank you guys! Wait, what are you guys gonna drive now?" He asked, feeling slightly guilty about the gift. "Theon sold me his brother's and dad bought Jon a new one. Believe us, we don't like you enough to just give you a car." The two of them laughed and Jon tossed Bran the keys. "This _is_ the best gift…" he mumbled, not able to hide the brilliant smile glued on his face. "And that's not all, Robb and I are taking you to a strip club tonight." Jon whispered. Bran's eyes widened and his mouth was probably just the same. Robb rolled his eyes and closed his brother's mouth.

"Don't look obvious, Bran, mother will know you're doing something bad then." Robb warned. Bran nodded slowly and tried to think of a way to get himself out of the situation. "Aren't I too young? They'll card me before hand, right?" He asked, knowing that was his best excuse. "Nah. Petyr Baelish, mom's old friend, owns the place. He won't card us." Robb assured the boy and Bran gave him a wry smile before biting his lip. He didn't want to do this. "It'll go fine. Robb and I did it on our birthdays, it's like a tradition or whatever. Nothing to be nervous about, not like we're buying you a whore." Jon teased, ruffling his brother's hair. Bran gave a small smile, but he wasn't happy about this. 

"We'll go out for ice cream too, if that makes you feel better." Robb added in a teasing tone, but his brothers knew he was serious. "Yeah, that'd be good." Bran said with a real smile. _Ice cream and strippers, this is turning into a weird day…_

\---

"Can I drive?" Bran asked Jon. They were on the express way, Baelish's strip club being a little far out from their home. Jon was driving, Bran was in the passenger seat, and Robb was lying down in the back. They were in the car that they had given Bran, but the two of them were honestly a bit scared to let him drive on the express way. He'd only gotten his license today, but Bran was persistent and it was his car now. "I don't know, Brandon, anything can happen. You don't even have your seatbelt on." Jon reminded. Bran fussed. "Oh, come on, Jon! You said we're not that far away, I can drive the rest!" The boy argued.

"Will you shut up if he let's you?" Robb asked from the back and Bran nodded earnestly. Robb sighed. "Let him drive, Jon. We're only a few miles off and he'll complain the whole time if you don't." I'll complain the whole time even if you do. Reluctantly, Jon pulled off to the side of the road and he and Bran switched spots. Bran gripped the wheel tightly, anxious and excited at the same time. "You wanted to drive, go." Jon demanded. Bran gave him a small nod and made his way back onto the road.

He drove at a good pace, a bit under the speed limit, but still good and comfortable enough for him. "Go a little faster." Jon encouraged. Bran nodded and took a deep breath before he placed his foot harder on the gas, going a little faster than intended. "He said a little faster, not add fifty miles." Robb commented. "Sorry…" Bran apologized, removing just a small bit of force. "Put your seat belt on." Jon demanded. "I will! Stop talking, you guys are making me nervous." Bran said, making the older boys laugh. "You're the one who wanted to drive!" Robb pointed out. "Yeah, and you're doing fine. Don't be so nervous, we're almost there." Jon assured him, ruffling his hair to comfort him.

Bran nodded and relaxed a bit, driving a little more confidently. Neither of his brothers said anything for a short while until Robb sat up in the back seat and looked out his window, Jon and Bran both staring straight ahead. "Bran, look out!" Robb warned. "What?" The two boys in front asked at the same time. "That car! Look ou—"

The collision was abrupt and violent. The other car had hit Bran's side, crushing in his door and shattering the window, and was forceful enough to send the car onto its side. It rolled a few times and probably would have stopped if their car hadn't been so close to the railing, consequently sending them over it and down the hill which the road was built. The three of them were screaming and knew they were going to die. Bran was especially scared and tried to hold onto Jon, but failed when his head hit the roof of the car and his body was suddenly sent forward and out of the windshield. The last thing he thought about was wishing he'd just let Jon drive before everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

When Jojen Reed opened his eyes, he was in a blindingly white room. He heard annoying beeps, constant chatter, and panic and knew he was in a hospital. For what, he wasn't sure. Everything was hazy and his head hurt to much for him to try and remember. All he knew was that he was in a hospital bed and someone was gripping onto his hand tightly. He managed to turn his head to the side to look at whoever it was, smiling a bit to find that it was his sister, Meera. He made a noise in his throat and his sister looked up at him, relief flooding her face.

"Oh, thank God!" She exclaimed, hugging him as tears ran down her cheeks.

"Meera… Meera, what happened?" He asked. 

"You had a seizure while you were driving. You… you hit another car and three guys got hurt," She told him. Jojen's eyes widened and an instant fear came over him. He'd hurt three people. What if they were dead? What if their families sued? Jojen was eighteen now, he could legally be held accountable for this and put in, like, Shawshank, or somewhere worse. But the worse would be the aftermath of what he did to those people. 

"A-Are they dead? Are they okay? Meera, what did I do?" He asked, feeling tears sting in the back of his eyes.

"Shhh, don't worry about it right now. You should go back to sleep," She suggested. Jojen started sobbing then.

"What did I do? Meera, I-I-I—"

"Shh. Relax, okay? Go back to sleep. Everything will be fine…"

\---

The next time Jojen awoke it was dark. He was still in the hospital, but his sister was absent. He was able think better now and his head hurt a lot less. He was in no way relaxed, though. He couldn't take his mind off of those three people he'd hit. He wanted to know how bad he'd hurt them, if he could help them in any way, if they were alive it not… He sighed and painfully sat up in his bed and removed the little clips and wires from his skin. His ribs hurt like all hell, one of them had to be broken, but that didn't stop him from swinging his legs over the bed and making his way out of the room.

Everything was quieter than it had been earlier when he'd woken. Less frantic, less panicked, everything seemed as it would if it were just a normal day. 

"Jojen?" A voice called from behind, instantly being recognized as his sister. He turned around to face her and she gave him a look of disbelief. "Why are you out of bed? Go back in your room," She ordered, but Jojen shook his head. 

"I-I can't. Meera, I have to see them," Meera sighed and again tried to coax her brother back into his room, but he refused again. "Meera, please… who were they?" He asked, grief clear on his face. She sighed and finally gave into her brother's request.

"Two of their last name is Stark, the other is Snow. I'm not sure which one, but one is in a coma. He didn't have a seatbelt on and got thrown through the windshield. One of them got a broken leg and fractured his skull, the other… I'm not sure." Jojen nodded solemnly and felt even worse. The name Stark sounded familiar, but he wasn't sure why he knew it and that only added to his guilt. 

"Can I see them? Do you know where their room is?" Meera sighed heavily. 

"Jojen…"

"Please?" He begged. Meera bit her lip and finally nodded. 

"I saw them take the younger one to the second floor, but I don't know where his room is. Try to get to him if you really want to."

\---

It didn't take long for Jojen to find the Stark family, but it was difficult trying to sneak past all the nurses and doctors. Outside of door 213 was a big family, all of them teary-eyed and sobbing. Two girls and three boys. Jojen looked over each of them carefully. One of the girls was leaned against the wall and was crying excessively. She was nearly as tall as the boys, extremely pretty and had auburn colored hair. The next was a man with jet black curly hair and looked as pretty as a girl. He was leaning on a crutch and had a slightly bloody bandage on his forehead.

 _He was in the crash…_ Jojen thought before he frowned. _I did that to him._ Jojen shook his head and looked to the next person. A man with dirty blond and a shaggy beard, tear stains visible down his cheeks. He didn't look like the other two, so he must not have been related to them. Next was a boy who barely looked like he was a teenager. He was chubby and was crying almost as much as the tall girl if not more. Then lastly was a girl with short brown hair and a frown on her face. Then everything clicked into place for Jojen. 

He _knew_ that girl. What was her name? Erin? Ariel? _Arya!_ She was Arya Stark, a well known rebel at Casterly High. She was in his senior class, she had a younger brother who was only a sophomore. Brendon, he thinks his name is. _No, that's not it… Brandon! Brandon Stark!_ he thought. He'd seen the two of them in the hallways or at lunch. They were fairly popular, but that was mainly due to Arya being so sociable to everyone while Bran became known by relation. This just made everything worse.

Jojen stood frozen in the middle of the hallway and stared at the family, but none of them paid him much attention. They were all too caught up in their own grief. After a few moments, Arya spoke to the others. 

"Why are we just sitting here crying? We have to go see him, mom's just in there alone!" She cried to her siblings. None of them said anything, the youngest boy starting to cry harder. Arya made an irritated huff and stood up from her chair before going up to the door and marching in. The others waited a moment, then the younger one followed his sister's lead and walked in. Then the blond one, then the tall girl, but when the dark haired one tried to go in, he was greeted with shouts.

"Get out! Get out! This is your fault, I don't want you here!"

"Mom, it wasn't Jon's fault! It was a freak accident, it's _nobody's_ fault!"

"Get him out of here! It should have been him!" And with that the raven haired boy abruptly emerged from the room and slid onto the ground sobbing violently. Jojen stared at him, not sure what to do for a moment, but then went over and placed his hand on the dark haired man's shoulder. He jumped violently and looked up at him, face full of hurt and eyes red and puffy. 

"I'm sorry," Jon apologized, covering his face with his hands. "Don't think this was your fault. It wasn't your fault…" Jon mumbled, beginning to sob harder. Jojen was confused, how did he…?

"You… you know who I am?" Jojen asked nervously and Jon nodded.

"Y-You hit us. I s-saw them put you in the ambulance. I was the only one awake…" Jon explained. "They say you had a seizure or something, so… I don't blame you. I can't." Jon assured the child. Jojen felt tears stinging in the back of his eyes and felt like the worst person on the planet. How could he forgive him for hurting his family so severely? 

"I would hate me if I were you. I hate myself already," Jojen admitted, but Jon waved it off. 

"Don't… I'm Jon, by the way, but you probably heard that already from the yelling," Jojen nodded sadly.

"Yeah… I'm Jojen Reed. How… how are you? And the other two?"

"Bran, that's the one in there, he basically shattered his back and his legs and somehow managed a minor skull fracture. He's in a coma and the doctors aren't sure if he'll make it. Even if he does… they say he'll never walk again. Today was his birthday, you know? He was so excited to get his license and the first real time he gets to use it, this happens. I shouldn't have given him the wheel…" Jon started crying again, but composed himself quickly. "I'm sorry…" he apologized again and Jojen just felt awful. 

"What about the other one? I thought there were three of you?" Jojen asked. Jon's face went pale and twisted into a pained expression. 

"Yeah… yeah, their was. Our oldest brother, Robb, he… uh, he died during the crash. His neck ended up snapping by the time we hit the ground or something equally as horrible, I'm not really sure, but he was dead when they pulled him out…"

_I killed him. I killed him. I killed him. I killed him…_

Just then, Jojen broke down in tears and Jon followed suite. This was the worst day of either boys' life and nothing could wash away Jojen's guilt or Jon's pain. This is something they both had to live with and remember forever. They sat there crying silently for a long while until Jojen finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry!" He sobbed into Jon's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he repeated over and over. Jon didn't say a word, only patted his head reassuringly, much as he used to do with Bran. "Can I see him? Can I see Bran?" Jojen asked, feeling saddest for Bran more than all. He'd put the boy in a lose-lose situation, either he died or he lived as a cripple, which would be the most dramatic and traumatizing change in his life. Oh, and finding out his brother was dead too…

Jon shook his head quickly. "No! No, you can't. At least not with his mom around. The rest of us understand how much of an accident this was, but she can't. She always liked Bran best, she'd kill you herself if you told her you did this to her boy, you can't see him," Jon warned. Jojen bit his lip, but he understood. He couldn't see Bran as long as family was around, but he figured he'd find a way.

\---

The next morning, Jojen was released from the hospital. He didn't sustain any major injuries from the car crash aside from his ribs (three were bruised, one was broken) and he was fine after the seizure. The nurse had given him pain pills to take and he was basically ready to go. Meera was there, of course, smiling at the news that her brother would be fine, but Jojen was the least bit happy. Why did he get off so easy when the Stark family had to suffer so much?

"I have to see Bran," He told his sister when they were in the elevator. Before she could object, he'd already pressed the button to go to the second floor. 

"Jojen, _no!_ The family already decided not to press charges, make this worse for yourself!" She warned, but Jojen ignored her. 

"I'm not! I just wanna see the boy whose life I ruined…" Meera didn't say anything and Jojen felt triumphant, despite the fact that he didn't take much joy in it.

When they got to room 213, Jojen peeked in and saw it was empty. There was no one waiting outside, either. He figured now was his chance. He told his sister to wait outside as he slipped into the room and came up next to the bed. He looked down at the boy in front of him and felt repulsed. Not that Bran looked grotesque in the slightest. No, not at all. He had a few scratches on his face and arms from where the glass had kissed him, a busted lip, and a bandage around his head. Those injuries didn't take away the childlike innocence of his features or the general beauty he possessed. No, Jojen felt repulsed that he had _caused_ these awful injuries, tainting and littering the boy's skin with scars and wounds that wouldn't have been there had it not been for him.

Jojen sighed heavily and tried to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "God, I am so sorry…" he mumbled. "I am so sorry this happened to you…" just then the door to the room opened and a man he hadn't seen yesterday entered. He was older and had brown hair that matched Bran's and an eagerness to his actions that gave away that he was Bran's father.

"Who are you?" The man asked, looking over Jojen cautiously. 

"I-I'm Jojen Reed. I know Bran from school and heard about the accident. I just wanted to see him," Jojen half-lied. The man nodded and held out his hand. 

"Ned Stark, Bran's father," He told him. Jojen shook the man's hand gave him a sympathetic look. 

"I'm so sorry this happened. For _all_ your sons." 

Ned Stark looked on the verge of tears, but said, "No need for you to apologize, it wasn't your doing…" And with that Jojen excused himself from the room and found his sister, demanding the two of them leave immediately.


	3. Chapter 3

Bran heard noises, but couldn't see a thing. It annoyed him. The first thing he wanted was to open his eyes, or shine a light, whichever. The second thing was to yell at all of them to shut up. There was crying, then shouting, then more crying, then last regrets, and they just wouldn't _shut up._ Bran knew who these people were, of course. 

He'd gotten used to his mother yelling at Jon for years and the sound of Sansa crying over anything remotely sad. He even heard his father, though, he didn't say much often. Bran knew what this meant, he was dying. That had to be the only explanation for the crying and yelling and lack of sight. He didn't remember much about why he was dying, his head hurt too much focus on any one thing, but he was dying.

This was strange to him, all the nothingness. Any other time he was near death (which happened more than it should have in his short life) he always had a strange dream about a three eyed crow that would somehow help him out of the situation. Like when he'd had an asthma attack in the third grade and passed out, or when he fell off of the roof of their old house and managed a concussion, but where was his little three eyed crow now? Was there no getting back this time and it'd just given up hope trying to help Bran? Or did it manage to blend in with all the darkness around him and was just hiding in the abyss? He didn't know and didn't really care; it wasn't like he could do anything about it now.

Bran didn't know how long he'd been in that darkness either. It felt like an eternity, but he knew that wasn't right. He gave up on trying to guess how long he'd been like this after what he didn't know was only one night, so he just endured it and tried to pick up on the more interesting conversations. Theon's voice came more often than Bran expected it to. He'd grown up with him, but with such an age difference, he was more of Robb and Jon's friend. He'd cry sometimes, others he'd just be silent. He talked about him and how he wasn't going to die, then he'd mention something about Robb and he'd either cry or fall silent again. Then he was gone and Bran was stuck to hear those annoying beeps nonstop. His mother would cry and talk about how it should have been Jon. Repetitive and boring to Bran. Arya and Sansa's voices were barely ever heard and Jon and Rickon's weren't at all. The saddest voice was probably the one Bran _didn't_ recognize.

It was clearly a boy, but he wasn't in the least bit familiar. He'd apologize, cry sometimes, apologize again, then tell Bran that he needed to pull through or some random story about his family or how his day went, then apologize _again._ Bran found this odd since he had no idea who the guy was or why he was sorry, but he came just as often as his family if not more. Bran decided that he liked him. 

Bran was in the darkness for who knows how much longer, but one day at some random moment, the darkness started to disappear. It fell from around him slowly, as if they were black feathers falling from a bird. Then, after what seemed like years, Bran opened his eyes to a blinding white light and quickly shut them again from the intensity of it.

He tried again and moved his head to stare at something other than the searing white pain. His eyes settled on monitors; the source of those annoying beeps that wouldn't stop. He then looked around the room and was grateful that it was empty. He didn't want to deal with tears right now. He was thirsty and his throat felt like it was on fire, so he didn't dare try to speak. He wasn't awake for even a minute when someone walked into the room.

Bran stared at him. He was tall, had blond hair, and emerald green eyes. He didn't recognize him, but when he smiled down at him Bran had an idea of who it was. 

"Thank God! You're awake!" He exclaimed, confirming Bran's suspicions. He recognized that voice. He tried to clear his throat and then (painfully) spoke in an incredibly hoarse voice. 

"I've… I… y-you come here a lot. I heard you…" Bran said, regretting it as he felt how much pain his throat was in. The blonde bit his lip and nodded slowly.

"Yeah… I come here a lot." He repeated. 

"Who are you? I've never… you look kind of familiar…"

"My name's Jojen… I go to Casterly… I-I was the one that hit you," He admitted sadly. _Oh. Now that makes sense,_ Bran thought. Bran didn't know what to say. Obviously it was bad that this had happened, but he was alive and the boy looked so guilt ridden at the moment he couldn't find it in him to be angry. Besides, Jojen had to have cared a lot that he visited him so often. "I-I'm so sorry this happened! I had a seizure— it was so random. I hadn't had one since I was eight and I… I didn't think anything so horrible would happen! I was just trying to drive to go to my Nan's and… and I ruined your life. I hurt your family so badly…" Jojen started to cry and Bran felt nothing but sympathy for him. He couldn't blame him for this, it was just a freak accident—like he'd heard Sansa say.

"It's okay…" Bran mumbled and Jojen looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise and awe.

"Yo-you can't say that. You don't _know_ how bad it is…" Jojen pointed out, not willing to tell Bran the extent of the accident, but not wanting any forgiveness. 

"I really don't want to know… how long have I been asleep?" Bran asked finally, changing the subject. 

"About a month or two, I'm really sorry." He apologized again. Bran ignored it and tried to relax in his bed. It was amazing that he actually still felt so tired. "Your family's gonna be ecstatic when they hear you're awake." Jojen said. Bran nodded. He'd be glad to see his family, but right now he was content with Jojen. "I'll go get a nurse for you." Jojen said moving towards the door. 

"You'll be back, won't you?" Bran asked softly. He wanted to actually talk to the boy who'd spent so much time talking to him. 

Jojen gave him a nervous smile. "Yeah, of course I will." He promised before leaving.

\---

Bran didn't see Jojen for the rest of the day—or even after, for that matter. Jojen had gotten a nurse, but he didn't come back with him. The nurse had given Bran something to drink, something easy to eat, and some medicine for the pain he'd had in his head. The nurse said he'd called his parents already and his family was on their way. He'd also said some other stuff about Bran's condition and the extent of his injuries, but the boy wasn't paying much attention. The medicine was strong and, despite how much Bran tried to fight it, he fell back to sleep and tried not to think too hard about the boy with the forest green eyes.

When he awoke next, it was to the sound of the door to his room opening and his family pouring into his room. The first face he saw was his mother's, then his fathers, then his siblings. His mother cried tears of joy and his siblings talked happily to him and explained how amazing it was to see him awake. Bran was happy too, it wasn't often he got to see his entire family together. Well… it still wasn't his entire family and he noticed that quickly. Robb wasn't there. Neither was Jon. And why had Jojen not come back? Bran was taken out of his thoughts by Rickon excitedly jumping on his bed, accidentally landing roughly on his left leg. His mother scolded him and told him to get down quickly. That's when it hit Bran: _that should have hurt._

Bran looked down at his legs and trailed his fingers over them. He couldn't feel them. He dug his nails into his skin. Didn't feel a thing. He tried to get them to move, tried with all his heart. Nothing happened. He looked up at his mother, fear and panic wide in his eyes. He couldn't feel his legs… 

"Oh honey… didn't they tell you…?"

\---

It took approximately three days for Bran to become a depressed teenager. Given that it wasn't the usual "my-life-sucks-because-I-have-no-place-in-society-and-no-one-loves-me" type of depression, but he still had a very teenager-ish way of coping. Learning that he was paralyzed had not been an easy thing to accept. He shook his head and tried not to listen to what _everyone_ was telling him and basically had a head full of denial _("I am not a cripple!")._ Learning that his brother was dead was impossible to handle. All the guilt he felt took a terrible toll on him and he cried excessively as if he were a _girl_ or something.

Bran tried to keep that thought in mind, but all he could think about was how close he and Robb were. He always took care of him, gave him advice, comforted him when in need. Robb had even taken care of Bran and Rickon for a month while the rest of the family were away (their sisters were at their aunt's, Jon was up north visiting Uncle Benjen, and their parents were off on holiday). Rickon was only three and Bran was eight with a broken leg. Fourteen year old Robb spent most of his time at home and taking care of his baby brothers instead of hiring a sitter and going out with Theon (who often helped Robb run the house) to fence or pick up girls or something _normal_ teenage boys would do. That's probably when Bran carded him as his favorite sibling and also why he broke down every time he thought about him.

When they gave Bran Robb's old room is when he lost it. Robb's room used to be on the first floor and since Bran was in a wheelchair now his parents thought it easier for him to move to his brother's old room rather than staying in the basement. Bran was hysterical. He screamed at them, cried, spat out every insult that he could think of, but that didn't work. They placed him in Robb's room anyway and he threw an even larger tantrum. He continued to scream and yell and cry, but he also started to break everything he came into contact with. 

"I fucking hate this place!" He threw his laptop against the wall. "I fucking hate all of you! How could you move me in here?!" He pushed his tv roughly onto the ground, cracking the screen the second it hit the floor. "You fucking awful cunts!"

Bran then hoisted himself up out of his chair and onto his bed and managed to push the chair out of the open door of his new room. He started to cry afterwards and little Rickon peeked in with a sad and distraught look on his face. "Close the fucking door!" Bran cried out between sobs. Rickon complied instantly and he heard his footsteps as he ran away. Bran didn't know how long he was like that, but eventually he fell asleep. Bran woke up hours later and it was pitch dark outside. He had to pee and almost regretted leaving his chair so far away from him, but that didn't last long. 

When he turned on his light he saw that his wheelchair had been neatly placed next to his bed and that his room was clean. He started sobbing quietly and carefully placed himself into his chair. That was the first night Bran Stark ever cut himself. And as he dug the blade into his skin all he could think about was how much he hated Jojen Reed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone like this?


	4. Chapter 4

It took all the strength in Jojen to muster up the courage to actually come to the Stark house. It had been two weeks since Bran had woken up and Jojen had been avoiding him. He really wanted to see Bran again. Truly, he did, it was just that he couldn't see him with his family around without explaining who he was, and after seeing how his mother reacted to Jon—his own brother—Jojen wasn't too fond of that idea. That's why he avoided Bran as much as he could, but he knew it wouldn't last forever. He came to that conclusion when he didn't see Bran at school. He'd seen Arya plenty, but she walked the halls alone and had an angrier vibe about her. Bran wasn't coming to school and Jojen felt like a piece of shit. All he could think about was what was going on with the boy who's life he'd ruined. So, after two weeks of the younger boy's absence, he finally went to see him.

He held his breath as he rang the doorbell and hoped his mother or father didn't open the door. Luckily it was the youngest of the Starks, a pudgy boy with curly brown hair who looked a lot like Bran. He looked as if he'd been crying too… 

"H-hi…" the boy greeted softly, red rimmed eyes downcast to the ground. 

"Oh. Hi, is Bran here?" Jojen asked politely. The little boy looked up at him then, his eyes widening in shock. 

"Yeah, but… he's in a bad mood right now…" the boy mumbled. Jojen bit his lip nervously and thought over his answer before saying, "I think I still want to see him, can I?" Rickon thought it over and nodded slowly before stepping aside to let him in. "His room's right there," Rickon told him, pointing to the door that was just outside the living room.

"Thank you," He said before nervously stepping up and knocking on the door. "I told you to go away, Rickon, I don't wanna play that stupid card game…" 

"Um, it's not Rickon. I… it's Jojen." Everything was silent for a few moments, but then Bran softly told him to come in. Jojen opened the door and saw Bran lying in his bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest and legs covered up by his blankets. His wheelchair was placed neatly next to his bed. Bran and Jojen stared at each other, Jojen's face apprehensive while Bran's seemed apathetic. 

"Sit down." Bran ordered and Jojen complied hastily, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You left me in the hospital."

"I know… I'm sorry." Jojen apologized. 

"Stop saying that!" Jojen stopped talking when he saw tha Bran was annoyed. "I hate you. I hate you so fucking much…" He stated, making Jojen nod. 

"I hate myself too if that makes you feel any better…" the older boy added. 

Bran let out a frustrated groan and pulled at his hair. "Stop _talking!"_ He demanded. Jojen _stayed_ quiet then. "All I've thought about is how fucked up my life is, y'know? Every time I do I just think about how I'm stuck in this stupid fucking chair and that my brother's fucking dead and that it's all _your_ fault and I just _hate you!"_ Jojen didn't say a thing in response.

"But then… then I think about that _face_ of yours and how damn _pitiful_ you look and… I can't. Not truly, at least. You had a seizure, you have an excuse, but _I_ don't. It was _my_ fault more than anyone's. You know where we were going? To a fucking strip club for my birthday! 'Ice cream and strippers,' Robb said with that stupid smile of his. If it wasn't for me then we wouldn't have even been on the road that night. I was just… too scared to come out to my brothers. I don't know why, they'd love me just the same… if I'd of just yelled out 'I like boys' then we wouldn't have gone at all. But… I was scared and now Robb's dead and I never get to see Jon and I can't walk… Everything's my fault…"

Jojen didn't know what to say (or if he was _allowed_ to say anything at all), so he just silently stared at Bran, but that turned out to be the wrong thing to do. "Again with that! _Look_ at you! That annoying face! You look like a puppy that I just kicked!" Jojen couldn't help but smirk.

"At least that means I'm adorable," He commented and he saw Bran's face heat up at that. 

"Don't think too much of it. I'm _pissed_ at you. Why did it take you two weeks to come see me? What made you think I'd want  
to see you at _all?"_ Jojen really didn't have an answer for that. He hadn't thought about it and this all could have ended terribly. It _still_ could if he made Bran mad enough.

"I was scared of your family, how they'd act if I told them that I did this to you," Bran chuckled cynically at his answer. 

"God, don't act like a pussy, Jojen, but you were right to. My mom's kind of… insane at the moment. Right now she's taking all her anger out at Jon—my half brother— and babying me, but if you told her you were the one who hit us she'd kill you without a second thought. Not kidding, she would. You're lucky it's just me and Rickon here right now…" Bran's voice trailed off and he looked as if he were deep in thought. "They went to his grave…" Bran mumbled too low for Jojen to hear it properly.

"I'm sorry, what'd you say?" Bran sighed, but repeated himself anyway. 

"They went to visit his grave, my mom and sisters. Of course they didn't tell me that, but I know they did because they didn't let Rickon go. Mom doesn't really like him seeing… unpleasant things, that's why he didn't even get to see me in the hospital." Jojen only nodded, prompting Bran to continue. "They wouldn't let me go either. They were gonna go the other day but said I had to stay since I'm too 'unpredictable,'" Bran rolled his eyes. "Then I… kind of threw a fit, but that's not important… now they're gone and mom stuck Rickon with me, saying 'take care of your brother' when they left…" Bran buried his face in his hands and Jojen just looked on, deciding to let the younger boy sort himself out.

"I mean, how stupid is that?" Bran continued, uncovering his face to reveal tearful eyes. "I used to be the one to watch _him_ and now he's trying to take care of _me!_ It–it's embarrassing and… and I've just been so mean to him…" A single tear fell from Bran's left eye and he wiped it away hastily, frowning when he realized he was actually beginning to cry. "Stop looking at me like that…" he told Jojen, but it was much less harsh than his earlier commands were. He didn't even wait for Jojen to comply before he started talking again.

"I feel awful about it but… I'm just so angry! I'm so angry and I take it out on everyone, but Rickon's the only one who actually takes it personally. He's always been like this, so sensitive. He might as well had been a girl. He needs to grow up…" Bran stopped talking then and the whole room fell into an awkward silence. He looked at Jojen, his expression blank and eyes suddenly absent of feeling. Then he said, "You killed my brother," It was a statement, not an accusation, not filled with hate or spite… Jojen nodded slowly, deciding it best to go along.

"Yeah… yeah, that happened…" 

"He was my favorite."

"…"

"And I can't see the other one."

"…"

"And I can't walk anymore…"

"I'm sorry…"

"All because of you."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know, I hate you."

"I know… so do I."

"… But I already forgave you, didn't I? So I'll stop… I'll stop."

Jojen gave Bran a confused look. After all the shit he was giving him and the guilt trip he'd put him on, he just suddenly says _'I'll stop?'_ "You'll stop?" Jojen asked incredulously. Bran shrugged, but didn't say anything, making Jojen feel annoyed more than anything. "So you're just going to forget about everything then?" Jojen asked. Bran rolled his eyes. 

"How could I forget the fact that you stuck me in a wheelchair and killed my brother? I don't have amnesia, you idiot."

"Then what do you mean you'll stop? Stop what?" Bran shrugged again. 

"I'll just… I'll _stop,"_ Bran repeated, giving no specificity at all to what he meant. 

"That doesn't even make sense!" Jojen exclaimed.

Bran let out an annoyed sigh. "Just shut up, Jojen! Just know that _I'm_ stopping because I'd rather not have our conversations just say 'I hate you, I'm sorry,'" Ah, now that made a bit of sense to Jojen. The older boy nodded and the room fell silent again. Bran sighed heavily, then said, "You're easier to talk to than them… don't wait two weeks to come see me again."

"You're saying I can come back?" Jojen asked surprised. 

"Don't think too much of it… I can't talk to any of them and Jon doesn't come around anymore… just don't keep me waiting next time." Jojen couldn't help but give Bran a small smile at that. 

"Of course, I wouldn't dream of it."

Bran didn't comment on it, instead saying, "You should go now, don't want my mother you're so afraid of to find you."

"You're kicking me out?"

"I didn't even invite you _in._ But yeah, I'm kicking you out because of the small fact that I hate you and don't want to look at you right now." 

"I thought you said you were gonna stop?" Jojen reminded. Bran stared at him. 

"I will, I am, just get out. You caught me on a bad day." Bran explained. 

"Is any other day going to be better?" 

Bran frowned and firmly said, "Goodbye, Jojen."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'll start writing for this again. I stopped because of a lack of inspiration and the fact that i'm going through an existential crisis, but writing is a good distraction, so i'll write and hope you guys like it.

Bran had promised himself that he wouldn't let his dreams trick him again. Not after he'd had that dream where the three eyed crow had told him he could fly only to wake up to a broken arm and leg (that was the roof incident). Now he figured that would be a lot worse if he'd had that dream before waking up paralyzed, but now wasn't the time to dwell on that because his mind was tricking him again. Well, not so much tricking him, but _confusing_ him. In his dream was Jojen, the green eyed boy who'd paralyzed him, lying in bed with him, idly twirling his long brown locks in his fingers.

Bran didn't make a sound when Jojen climbed on top of him and started kissing him. The blond's lips were hungry and eager against his and it didn't take long for Jojen to trail the kisses along Bran's neck and down his throat before palming him through his jeans. Bran made a sharp gasp at the feeling and could feel Jojen smirking against his throat, biting down hard to mark the pale flesh. Bran could feel himself getting hard—it didn't really take much, the boy was still a virgin—beneath Jojen and let out a small moan. Jojen then took the opportunity to unbutton Bran's skinnies and slipped his hand in, eliciting a surprised moan from Bran. The older boy ran his hand up and down Bran's shaft vigorously and sucked even harder on the boy's neck. It didn't take long, he'd never been touched like that before, and he came. When Bran opened his eyes it was to an uncomfortable, sticky mess staining his sheets and boxers. 

The only thing Bran could do was sigh and ignore the curious glance Summer was giving him.

"Come, Summer," He ordered and the dog hopped onto his bed without hesitation. He settled on Bran's legs, as he always did, and licked the boy's face. Summer was a large grey dog who looked remarkably like a wolf. He was big (too big for them both to be comfortable on the bed if Bran's legs worked), but always extremely friendly unless someone provoked Bran. Even when he was a pup he strove to protect Bran, like when Bran had been walking home from school when he was seven and a group of fifth graders started harassing him. Summer, probably only two months old, lunged at them, digging its sharp teeth into wherever it could bite. The bullies ran, Bran was safe, and Summer had a confident and bloody strut about him. 

Bran had missed Summer terribly for the past two weeks. His parents had thought having the dogs around would be too much of a disturbance with him adjusting to being in the chair. Bran thought it was stupid, all the dogs were smart and were trained to listen to command, they wouldn't be too much of a problem. 

"God, I missed you…" he mumbled against the dog's warm fur, petting him affectionately between his ears. Bran's phone suddenly went off and he looked at who was calling. **_Jojen._ ** Bran frowned and thought about ignoring it, but he figured that would be the stupidest thing he could do. It's not like any of his other friends were calling and his siblings didn't dare talk to him often. So, with little hesitation, Bran answered his phone.

_"Are you doing anything today?"_ Jojen asked without a greeting or _anything._

"You know I'm not… why?" Bran questioned. 

_"Do you wanna go out?"_ Bran's breath caught in his throat and Summer licked his face again. 

"Yo-you mean like a… a _date?"_ Bran heard Jojen chuckle on the other end and his face grew hot from embarrassment. 

_"No, even though I bet you're probably **dying** for one!" _ He laughed lightly, but stopped when he sensed Bran's awkwardness. _"… Unless you want to go on a date? I-I wouldn't mind at all!"_ he added, giving Bran enough time to recover his pride. 

"W-why would I wanna go on a date with you? You, you're annoying. I hate you, remember?" 

Bran could sense Jojen rolling his eyes through the phone. _"Yeah, of course I remember. So, do you wanna go out?"_ Bran bit his lip. He hadn't been outside since he got home from hospital. 

"I… I don't know. I have to watch Rickon again. And the dogs…" Bran was lying. Arya was home and was basically in charge of all of them, despite the two younger boys not doing much.

_"He can come too if he wants. And the dogs. It's not a date, remember?"_ Bran felt his face heat up and cursed Jojen for being so… _Jojen._

"Yeah, I guess so… where to?" Bran asked. 

_"The park, I reckon. Not many places actually let dogs in, Bran,"_ Jojen reminded. 

Bran felt a sense of embarrassment again, but managed to hide it by saying, "What teenager in the world says 'reckon?' Like, who the hell talks like that? Assholes!" Jojen could be heard laughing on the other end and Bran relaxed, a smile growing on his face. 

_"Okay, so I'll meet you by the one by the school?"_ Jojen asked. Bran felt nervous about going near the school. He didn't want to see any of his classmates.

"N-no. Let's meet at the one closer to here… I… it'll be easier." 

_"Okay, I'll see you soon."_

\---

Rickon was less than excited to have Bran force him and their dogs out of their house. Well, he _was_ a little excited when he thought Bran wanted to spend time with _him,_ but that quickly faded away when Bran explained they were just doing this to meet up with Jojen. That made Rickon annoyed. Ever since the blond boy started coming over it seemed as if Bran _only_ wanted to be around him. Rickon didn't even know who this kid was! He'd never heard Bran mention him before and he'd never been with Bran's other friends. He'd asked Arya and she'd told him he was in her senior class, but she'd never seen he and Bran interact. Rickon decided he didn't like the older boy. 

"Why did you bring me with you? I don't like this Jojen guy…" Rickon complained as they made their way to the park, Summer and Shaggydog trailing behind them. 

Bran let out an annoyed sigh. "Stop complaining, you don't even know him!" Bran argued. 

"Yeah, I bet you don't either." Rickon retorted. Bran glared at him and Rickon turned his gaze to the two dogs playing behind them, not wanting to receive the hateful look he'd been getting much too often. 

"You don't know anything, Rickon, and you're here because I'm older and I can still force you to do what I say." Bran explained. 

"You can't force anyone to do anything in that chair…" Rickon spat. He regretted it instantly. 

Bran stopped in his tracks along with Summer. His gaze was aimed at the ground and his long, wild hair covered his face. His left hand was balled into a fist and his right was clutched tightly around the arm of his chair. Rickon didn't need to see his brother's face to know that he was trying not to cry—and failing. "Bran, I did—"

"J-Just fuck off! Go back home if you want, I… I don't care…" Bran's voice was breaking and Rickon felt like an asshole. More of an asshole than Bran's been lately. Rickon tried to go over and touch Bran, but Summer growled at him and bit the boy's hand when he got too close. Shaggydog would have attacked Summer in response, but Rickon called him off before he could. 

"Bran, Rickon, what's going on?" Jojen asked when he saw the two boys. He eyed Rickon's bleeding hand and Bran's averted gaze and immediately knew nothing was right between them. 

"Nothing… nothing, I was just leaving. Shaggy, home. Let's go…"


End file.
